Rendezvous
06 February 06 : 08.56 PM
Last night I finished my English essay assignment at 2am, which I thought was quite record-breaking considering I started at 12.20am (let's not forget how much I tend to procrastinate too).
It was cold, and Chan Marshall was singing the most beautiful song I've heard in a long time, I hear the constant and steady rain outside, and I have by me, only a lamp of apricot shine. I like the solitude, sometimes.
I wanted to call b. even though I know I shouldn't. We've stopped talking. I think up all these excuses; I still have the book you slipped into my bag mimicking fate the way Tereza would have disagreed to, your DVD that I never got to finish watching, my book, the one we talked about that first time we met in that loveless place is still with you, or just, oh hey, I miss you. But I don't, I don't know why.
I know I say I want Mason, but sometimes, I think I want you more.
It took me almost 2 years to appreciate being alone after Jonathan. I was looking for someone to take the place he left since forever. I'm thankful I want the loneliness more now and so quickly. I have everything, everyone I need. Sylvia wonders, have we grown up, or are we just not feeling as much for them now?
I've been here before. I know where this waltz is taking me, and I know just what songs play in the background and I know I just can't hold on to time.
But sometimes, I forget and I just keep trying.